Officially Ours
by DaeDreemer
Summary: VdB. Set post 2.07. A daughter and two sons for them both-- officially.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: I do not own "Gossip Girl."

**Author's Note**: Just some more VdB stuff I wish we could have seen. :] Chapter 1 is set as an in-between scene in episode 2.07. It deals with Bart and Serena. Chapter 2 will be set shortly after the same ep and will deal primarily with Bart and Lily. :)

I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!

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"You worry your mother."

She sent him the most scathing, skeptical look she could muster. "Please. Roberto the Italian bastard prince tried that manipulation technique when I was nine."

The corners of his mouth tilted up a little, "I was being sincere," he noted.

She rolled her eyes, "Sincerely trying to manipulate me into being or doing exactly what you want."

"No," he argued calmly, "Sincerely trying to express to you that your behavior upsets your mother who in turn upsets me."

She leaned back fully into the leather seat of the limo, crossed her legs, "Please Bart— I know my mother… my behavior doesn't upset her."

"It does when she's aware of it."

It was the kind of qualification that not many (any?) of her mother's husbands, boyfriends, had made, but it only gave her momentary pause.

This was Bart Bass—Chuck's father. The level of manipulation and sleaze behind those blue eyes was probably off the charts.

"Look Bart, let's be… real here." She stated, crossing her arms over her chest.

Bart inclined his head to one side, studied his wife's daughter across the limo, and did his best not to smirk at her. He doubted the young girl would appreciate the humor in her situation.

"Let's," he agreed.

"You're not my mother's first husband and I'm sorry to be the one to break it to you, but you won't be the last. Husband's one and two had marginal influence over me—I was young, husband three none. I'm sure you can guess what husband four has…"

He studied her another moment, the flashing blue eyes, "You're angry," he determined.

"No! I'm not angry, why would I be angry?! I'm just telling you that I'm not going to bother changing myself to fit your image of a perfect daughter when I'm not your daughter and won't ever be!"

"Perfection is nonexistent."

He would guess by the way her mouth thinned and her jaw clenched that that was the wrong response.

Lily had warned him that daughters could be a bit more difficult than sons.

"Serena, I have no image of a daughter—perfect or otherwise. I simply would like for you to not spend your nights at clubs and lounges which you are far too young to attend."

"And I'm sure you've set this rule down for Chuck too, right?" She hissed.

"Is Charles really the benchmark you would like to live your life by?"

Serena's mouth snapped shut and scowled at him. The last thing she needed was for Bart Bass to make sense.

"I won't be used to project an image. Just because my mother—"

"Do not presume to know what your mother and I are about, Serena," he cut her off, frowning a little; he was getting tired of the belligerence, "I understand that you are accustomed to owing no one an accounting, but that has to change."

She leaned forward, uncrossed her legs and put her elbows on her knees, chin in her hands. "Why? Because _you're_ here now?"

The question was pure derision and Bart made a note to tell Lily that daughters could be _colossally _harder than sons.

"For how long, Bart?" The blonde girl continued, "If Chuck's not the benchmark to live my life by whose fault is that? I _know _you're never around, probably better than my Mom does. I'm not going to pin my hopes on you; on expecting you to stick around… you'll just vanish as soon as I've gotten the hang of putting underwear on."

Maybe he recoiled a little bit at that.

Then he studiously refrained from glancing anywhere below his stepdaughter's face, "Perhaps we could stop referring to your undergarments, yes?"

"Would that end this little chat?" She asked straightening, "Why are you even here? Don't you have an ivy leaguer or two under employ who can do guard duty for you?"

"Several," Bart admitted, "But as I said, _I _would like to take you home."

Serena's stony stare and silence in response to that almost made him sigh, almost.

Instead he shrugged a little, "I was hoping we could come to an amnesty." He continued.

Serena eyed him for another moment.

"Did you have terms in mind?" She wondered, her tone making it clear she was not agreeing to anything.

He nodded, looked vaguely pleased, "Yes. You will behave in a manner befitting a well-educated seventeen year old high school student."

The limo was silent after this proclamation.

She made a face at him, lifted a hand, "And?"

He blinked at her blankly for a moment, then said questioningly, "And… dress appropriately?"

She stared at him— it was an actual question and Serena would have laughed at it if this were anyone else.

"No," she explained, expression pinched, "You're supposed to offer _me_ something now, that's how it works."

"Ah," he said, nodding his head once, a quirk to his lips that almost looked like a smirk, "Is it…?"

She glared a bit, "Yes— like you will _never _manipulate Eric again, ever." She spat.

His almost-smirk vanished, "I did not—"

"But Bart Bass isn't much for compromise, is he?" She questioned sardonically, cutting him off, her eyes flashing, "Why are we even wasting our time? It's not like—"

"You expect the worst of me." He cut in, the sentence not a question; his eyes studying her intently, almost curiously.

Serena scoffed, tossed her hair, "I don't expect anything from you and you shouldn't expect anything from me. We're not anything to one another—you're just the latest guy to marry my Mom."

Bart thought maybe he'd never been more thankful for Chuck's subversive defiance in his life than in the silence that followed that statement; _that_ he knew how to deal with, how to nip in the bud, _this _outward show of anger, this dismissive response, was so uncomplicatedly hostile it took him off guard.

There was no posturing with this girl; she did not like him, she would go out of her way to show this, to say it— and that was a problem and somehow oddly amusing.

His silence seemed to unnerve her and suddenly she was speaking again, "Look Bart," she sighed, bit her lip, "I think if we just stay out of each other's way, we'll be fine, okay?"

It was her olive branch, he should take it.

"I'm afraid I can't do that," he said firmly, "I'm committed to your Mother, Serena, to this family. Staying out of your way— is not an option."

She stared at him, like he'd just spoken in a foreign language.

He stared back, because really, what more could he say to her? Her gaze shifted away from him a moment later, dropped to her lap.

Serena wasn't sure what to make suddenly, of husband number four. He was just like the others, worse even— controlling and a hypocrite… right?

She cut her gaze to him, eyed him through her lashes— he was Bart Bass, _Chuck's_ father... and she knew well enough that Chuck was not what he seemed… maybe she could hold off judgment, give this all time, like Eric wanted.

She lifted her head, drew in a deep breath. Bart eyed her speculatively.

"So can we make it 1:30 instead?"

Bart squelched the desire to insist that she just do as he asked. There would be time enough for that later, instead he inclined his head, "I will discuss it with your mother, for the time being, 1:00…"

She considered him for another moment and then rolled her eyes, sighed dramatically, "Oh fine, but next time you go away bring me back something in blue, okay?"

There was a smile playing on her lips and Bart quite nearly frowned, not at her, but at her sudden turnaround in attitude. Is this what daughter's did? Flip from angry defiance to amused teasing for no discernable reason?

The limo slid to a stop in front of their building then.

He nodded slowly, "I will make a note of it," he paused, then shrugged as the driver opened the door for them, "Any particular shade?"

And the hint of a smile broke out into a grin, as she hopped out in front of him, "You don't know?! Are you saying Chuck didn't get his fashion savvy from you?"

He smirked at that, shrugging out of his jacket as he stepped out behind her, "I can't say I have any claim to Charles's unique sense of style…"

She tossed him a smile as they went inside, but it faltered as they got onto the elevator.

"Is she really mad?" She asked hesitantly.

He gave her a one-shouldered shrug, "I think Eric calmed her down, for the most part."

Serena sighed, didn't look very relieved though.

Bart studied her profile as they rode up. "You should know," he told her, because this was important, "I appreciate Eric for exactly who he is."

Her head whirled towards him, eyes widening. He sounded sincere, she thought with surprise, "I—"

The doors opened before she could speak and he stepped towards them, motioned for to precede him.

She blinked at him, he didn't expect a response; he just wanted her to know.

She closed her mouth and nodded at him, offered him a tiny, genuine smile as she stepped out of the elevator. He returned it, just as tiny and heartfelt, as he slung his jacket over his shoulder and together they turned into the oddly silent living room.

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TBC.

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	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: I do not own "Gossip Girl."

**Author's Note**: Here's chapter two-- a little different then what it set out to be, but I've been spending a lot of time with Bart. ;)

I hope you enjoy!

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Lily laughed softly, leaned back against the sofa as she cried softly, "I can't eat another bite!" Her pronouncement was greeted with smiles and a smirk all around.

Serena giggled, brought another forkful to her mouth, "I think I could eat the whole thing!"

Eric rolled his eyes at her, and said warningly, "We should save some for Chuck."

She stuck her tongue out at him. He crossed his eyes at her.

Lily straightened a little, "Hm, where _is _Charles? I lost track of him in all the—?" She trailed off, slid her gaze to her daughter slyly.

Serena pulled her attention from her little brother and sent her mother a dazzling smile as she shrugged.

Lily shook her head slowly and sent her a small smile back. Their talk had been a release of tension; and she could only hope that now they were on a steadier path towards this family she was trying to build.

She sent a quick, inquiring look at Eric as to Charles's whereabouts, but the younger boy shook his head at her, said quietly, "No clue…"

Lily shifted her gaze to her husband, sent him the same inquiring look.

Bart's face gave him away—a rare occurrence, but then again, his guard was low.

"Bart?" She arched an eyebrow at him, the beginning of a frown between her brows. "Do you know where Charles went?" She asked him specifically when he pointedly avoided her gaze.

Bart actually fiddled with a piece of cake on his plate for a moment, before lifting his gaze to her and answering, "His suite at the Palace, I imagine."

Eric frowned. "Why would he go there?" He asked. "I thought the point of tonight…" he trailed off suddenly, much like his mother and shot Serena a quick grin, "Was to be a family—but also to move in here…?"

Bart cleared his throat and stood abruptly, "Charles likes his space."

Serena looked up at him, licking icing off her lips as she frowned too; Bart was getting all stiff again, he'd been _nice _for a few minutes there, "Wait, where're you going?"

"I have things to—"

Serena's huff and eyeroll cut him off, "Right," she snapped, stabbing her fork into the cake hard, "Of course you do."

"Serena," Lily admonished softly.

The room was abruptly silent.

Everyone's gaze cast away from one another. "Well," Lily said as cheerily as she could manage, standing smoothly from the floor, "Tonight was fun."

It was the tone— dry and nearly sincere, that made Eric breathe a laugh. "Come on, Mom," he said, looking up at her, "_Fun?" _

She smiled at him; all genuine, gaze lit up, "The occasional scandal is good for the soul, Er—" she stopped, eyes widening a little in alarm, "Don't tell your grandmother I said that…!"

Serena smiled despite herself when Eric scooted closer to her and shot her an amused grin. They both looked up at their Mom, "Somehow I think Grandma knows," Eric teased.

Lily's expression cleared and she shrugged carelessly, "Well, this is _hardly_ a scandal, anyhow… right Bart?"

He was watching her with a tiny, amused smirk on his face, "It's not at all; it's completely dead." He confirmed.

Lily made a sweeping motion with her hand towards her children, "See there." Both of whom did nothing more stare at her for a beat before eating some more cake.

She pressed her lips together, "Now you two put that away, when you're finished with it…" she said, pointing at the cake, "We have no staff in tonight."

Serena and Eric exchanged another amused look.

Serena waved her fork in the air, "You sure you want to spend a whole night here without them, Mom? I mean, who'll turn down your bed?"

Eric smiled, "Who's gonna put your dress away?"

"And your shoes?"

"Lay out your hairbrush…?"

"Oh, oh enough!" Lily cut in, a breathy laugh as she stepped towards Bart, "You both think you're so amusing, we'll see how you feel in the morning… when I make breakfast…"

"Oh my god Mom no!"

"Serena already apologized," Eric turned to his sister quickly, "Right!?"

Serena nodded emphatically at him and then swung her gaze to her mother, "I did!"

Bart's smirk had turned into a smile and he reached for Lily's hand when she drew closer to him, "I'm sure it'll be wonderful." He praised.

Serena scoffed, had another bite of cake, "Should I bring up the charred pancake incident of 1997?"

Eric laughed, dropping his fork as he leaned forward a little, "Oh man… the smoke…the alarm…!"

Lily looked up into Bart's face as she intertwined the fingers of their joined hands, "I can cook, I can."

He looked into her eyes and nodded in all seriousness.

But before he could speak, Serena cut in, "Don't believe her, Bart!" she cried, smiling and pointing with the fork again, "She pours juice!"

Eric straightened and nodded, "But really well! Never a drop spilled!"

Lily looked over her shoulder, "Oh hush you two…" she didn't quite manage to erase the smile from her face though and Serena and Eric grinned back at her unabashedly.

"I'm sure you do very well in the kitchen," Bart murmured, "Though I prefer you in a different setting."

She turned back to him and laughed lightly, "Oh do you now…" she teased; patted his chest with her free hand.

And then she caught his eye— and realized what _different _setting he had in mind.

Color flushed her cheeks and she felt her smile widen, become sleeker; she pushed him lightly back a step and then lifted her hand to give her children a backwards wave, murmured, "Kids, we're going to retire for the night… see you in the morning…"

She pressed close to Bart as she slid past him and then pulled him along after her. He looked back at the children as he moved after her, offered them a small smile as he said calmly, "Have a good night."

Eric and Serena watched them as they climbed the steps; Bart's free arm reaching out to wrap around Lily's waist as he leaned in to whisper something into her ear, she looked into his face and giggled as they turned the corner out of sight.

The siblings turned to each other, the cake between them momentarily forgotten.

Eric blinked; Serena gaped at him.

She spoke first, voice awash in bewilderment, "Was that—? Did they—? Are they going to—?"

"Stop!" Eric shouted hints of a smile still on his face, "Don'tgo there, S. Just…" he started laughing softly, "Just have cake."

Serena looked over at the staircase again, gaped at it for a moment, before giving a dramatic shudder, "Oh god," she said in a horrified whisper, scrunching up her face and dragging a hand over her it.

Eric shrugged after a moment, used his fork to cut into the cake again.

Then he shot her a smirk that maybe had a little Bass in it as he leaned his elbows on the coffee table and said wryly, "She did marry him… and it's not like he has that much of a personality…"

Serena nearly choked on the bite of cake she'd just placed in her mouth, "Eric!" She gasped, eyes going wide as she made a rapid _stop_ motion with her hand.

He sent her a baleful look and for a moment the living room was perfectly silent; and then he grinned and she rolled her eyes, reaching over to grab a pillow and whack him with it.

Eric laughed and dodged it, stretching and diving for his own pillow to throw at her.

Serena giggled and a heartbeat later they were both up and running around the newly decorated living room; laughing as they dodged and threw sofa cushions at one another.

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They're on top of the bed, duvet and pillows on the floor, tangled in sheets and his teeth are on her bottom lip when they hear the shrieking laughter from downstairs.

Lily giggled at the sound, shifted so his lips would move to her neck as she said dryly, "And we're being quiet for _them?" _

Bart was down to his boxers, her dress was pooled down past her ankles; he lifted his head to smirk at her after she spoke. "It sounds like they're having a good time," then those lips were back on her skin, "We should too…"

She closed her eyes, pressed into him, "Did I thank you for bringing my little girl home?" She drawled.

"Thank me again…" he murmured, hands undoing the knot of her hair.

Lily laughed low and throaty, "No really, thank you."

He lifted his head to look down at her, smirk still in place, "_No really_," he mimicked softly, "Thank me…"

Lily's mouth quirked in amusement and then she reached up, pushed his shoulders back, and wrapped her legs around him so she could flip up and sit on his stomach.

The move surprised a laugh out of him and she felt herself glow a little bit. Her hair had come loose after he'd run his fingers into it; it fell to her shoulders now and Bart's hands came to splay out across her bare waist, smoothing her skins, as he was watched her in that way he had; that way where she could feel the full focus of his attention, it made her body quiver, made her smile widen.

And then Serena shrieked, _"Eric!" _So loudly they both jumped; attention jarred away from each other.

Lily turned her head around, towards the door, felt Bart shift underneath her.

The laughter from below was louder then, tinged at the edges with a little hysteria; the mutterings carrying a frantic edge— then the sound of moving furniture.

Lily looked back to her husband, "What—?"

He didn't let her finish the question; reached up instead, one of his hands skimming her shoulder and neck, then slipping into her hair as he brought her down to him for a kiss.

Lily was happy to comply, thoughts of her children fading.

"_It's all over!" _

"_Sshh!!"_

They both stilled at that; and then Lily lifted her head a tiny bit, lips still touching Bart's as she giggled, "There's going to be icing on my new furniture, isn't there?"

His hand was stroking her back as he nodded once, "Very likely…"

She quirked her lips, wondered aloud, "Maybe I should go tell them to—"

"Or not," he cut in, smirking again.

Lily sighed, an uncertain smile gracing her features, as she moved to rest her arms on his chest, peering into his face, "I don't really know how to do this," she confessed about parenting; knowing that he already knew.

"I'm not one to judge," he said softly as his smirk turned tender.

And she nodded, her eyes fastened on his face, "No, I guess you really can't."

He blinked at her, the hand stroking her back, stilling. "What do you mean by that?" He asked her, his tone slipping out harder than he'd intended it to be; and he felt her still as well.

Lily stiffened as the playful, seductive mood dissipated around them.

They were frozen again, but it had nothing to do with amusement now.

She swallowed hard and answered him, "Nothing, I don't mean anything by it," but even as she said the words, she knew they were a lie; knew he would know it too.

She hadn't _meant _to mean anything— but she still had.

His expression went blank at the same time his eyes went flat; and she forced herself to not tense any more than she had already had, to not move— hoped if she pretended she didn't see, it would go away.

They were silent, gazes averted, turned inwards; both almost listening to the dim, less frenzied, mumblings of the teens downstairs— almost.

"You're referring to Charles," Bart said then, after a long pause.

He watched her, saw her give up the facade and let herself tense; the arm he still had around her was shaken off as she slipped off of his stomach and fell to his side on the bed. Her sigh was faint and she laid her head to rest on his chest, one arm underneath her, the other coming around him.

It was his turn to tense then; she'd gone soft, would be gentle, and Lily always did her worst damage when she didn't mean to; "Serena was apparently not the only child to storm off tonight."

He closed his eyes, gave his own sigh. "No, I suppose she wasn't."

"What happened?" She asked, "Did you have an argument?"

"It was nothing, it—"

"He's not here, that makes it—"

"He likes his space."

"His room is his space."

Bart's sigh was louder this time as he opened his eyes and disentangled himself from her arms, sitting up, "This is not what I had in mind for this setting," he murmured.

Lily straightened as well, shrugged one shoulder as she let her gaze meet his, "We could leave this, go back to that," she offered, letting her gaze trail down his form salaciously.

But she knew Bart wouldn't. Bart liked forward, not backwards; fixing problems when they arose, not later; and taking what he wanted.

He inclined his head to one side, studied her for a beat before saying dryly, "Lily Bass, I think you've killed the mood."

It made her smile, that teasing glimmer in his eyes and she shifted towards him again, twisted the sheets away, until she could slide closer to him.

He took her in his arms and then pressed a kiss to her temple, "I may have unduly taken out some of my frustration on him."

"Hm, how so?"

"He needs to learn to follow the hierarchy of command; he can't just skip to the top."

"Hierarchy of—?" She cut herself off and pulled back from a bit so she could see into his face, "Are you telling me this was a business matter? Something to do with the company?"

He blinked at her; she seemed oddly startled by that. "Yes."

Lily sighed, but didn't respond.

He shifted a bit so he could see into her face, "What is it?" She remained silent even then. He squeezed her a bit in his hold; said her name questioningly, "Lily?"

She gave in, told him her thoughts. "It doesn't seem right for business matters to be argued about at home."

He stared at her profile, at the determined line between her brows as she pressed on, "And you should have gone to get him too. When you went to get Serena— this entire night was a disaster." Her voice hitched a little, "We're not even family enough to make it through one night…"

"Lily, that's not what happened here—"

She shifted in his arms, met his blue eyes with her brown as she arched an eyebrow, "Isn't it? Serena and I had a melt down and apparently you and Charles had one too. There are five people in this family, Bart. If four of them argue and two take off on one night—that's a disaster."

He stared at her for a moment, "That's a difficult point to argue."

"Because I'm right," she pointed out with a tiny twist of a smile on her face; but her eyes were sad.

"Eric is right," he said gently, "We just need time."

She huffed at him, settled back into his arms, "You still should have gone to get Charles when you went to get Serena."

He was silent for a moment and then admitted, "I wanted a private moment with her."

Lily's soft laugh was not the response he expected. She lifted her face to him, "You didn't think it was true— when I told you daughters could be more difficult than sons."

"It isn't true," he argued; but he knew his eyes were giving him away.

"Oh I'm sure… did it go well? Your talk? Or will she be needing a suite at the Palace as well?" A delicate pause and then she added, "_For_ _space_," in a tone laden with so much placid sarcasm Bart had to lean in close and press an affectionate kiss to her mouth.

She turned into him, a hand coming up his face. When they pulled apart she smiled against his lips, "Went that terribly, did it?"

He smiled a little, "No it was… informative."

Lily pulled back, both eyebrows rising, "Informative?"

Bart nodded, "She believes this is a temporary arrangement; is modeling her behavior for it—to protect herself."

Lily's smile vanished and she averted her face, "Well… I can't say I blame her. I don't precisely have the best track record."

His fingers were on her chin then, turning her face back to him, "None of us do."

She sighed, lifted her hand to take his in hers, "I don't know what to say—" she cut herself off and began anew, "You should know… there isn't anything I can say to her... she's heard it all before… I always… I always marry for the last time." She confessed.

Bart squeezed her hand, "Of course you do," his smile was amused, "I know that, Lily."

"But I want this to be real… I think we could do this, be a family…" she continued.

"We are…"

Lily laughed, a sad sound, "I know, but I mean… really."

"We could make it official, if you like." He said.

The words slipped out; and they both blinked at one another in surprise, the room quiet.

"Official?" Lily repeated, brows arching a little, as she stared at him. "Are you—? Official how? You mean by… ?" She trailed off for a moment, and then took a breath, "Adopting?"

_Adoption._

The concept hung between them; something they'd never discussed, never even considered—separately or together.

"I— yes." He answered; the idea taking shape and form in his mind; the desire to do it, to bring these children into his fold, welling up inside him.

She stared for another moment and then straightened, pulling from his hold. "Should we dress for this discussion?" She asked, a tint of bite in her words.

He watched her. "Is it really that involved of a discussion?"

"Adoption? I would think so… I mean… Serena's already… well, you saw her. She's not adjusting all that well…" she let the sentence hang.

"This would show her we are serious about this family."

Lily swallowed hard, brought her hands together in front of her and bit her lip a little.

"You are serious, aren't you Lily?"

"Of course, I am," she defended, eyes widening, "You know I am… I just…" She gave a breathy laugh, "Bart— I… don't know what to say…adoption? You want to adopt Serena?"

"And Eric."

She looked away.

"What is it, Lily?"

She turned her face towards him, but didn't meet his gaze. "They're Van der Woodsen's," she said quietly.

Their bedroom is silent then.

Until Bart asked her just as quietly, "Do you think he will return?"

Her gaze lifted to his and she answered truthfully, "No. I don't think that."

"Then let him go. Let them, let him go."

"I've tried… I've… _tried,"_ she bit her lip, "Did she… say something? To you? About him?"

"She didn't have to. It was written all over her face— _you're not my father."_

Lily flinched, "Oh."

"I'm sorry; I don't mean to upset you."

"No, it's not—it's just…" her eyes were wide, "… I didn't want my children to know that hurt…"

She looked away again and he waited, watched her compose herself; because he knew there was more than one father who had disappeared on his children at play here.

When her chin steadied he spoke, steadily, so she would know he would never be that sort of father; disappear he would not. "Lily, I want this family to work. I want this to work, let me do this."

She considered him. "Bart, I couldn't do that—they're name, it's all they have of—"

"They can keep their name, it's not about that."

She bit her lip again, studied him, that calmness to him. It was at his core, a stability that gave her the freedom to waver.

She had learned that Bart Bass did what he said; it was that simple. There were a plethora of things he did not say; the man could talk in allusions for hours, never say a thing of meaning amid a conversation seemingly rich with his thoughts. But if you could get him to say it, it would be done.

If he said he was committed, he was committed. If he said he wanted was serious about this family, he was serious.

It was a certainty she had with few other people— and her kids deserved that too, didn't they?

She smiled a little, "I suppose… making it official would be a good a show of our convictions for the children?"

He nodded, returned her smile, "We can discuss it with them tonight if you like."

She shook her head, "Hm, maybe we should let them settle into the apartment first. And we need for Charles to be here when we—"

He cut in, "Why?"

She blinked and then frowned a little, "If you adopt Serena and Eric, I adopt Charles." And maybe her voice was tainted with an edge of _nonnegotiable_.

He stared at her, "I'm not suggesting this as a swap-your-children scenario. You're not obligated to—"

Her frown deepened, "I'm aware that it isn't an obligation, Bart."

It came out a snap and his eyebrows arched.

They stared at each other, it was quiet downstairs now, a beat passed and Lily made a face at him, waved a hand, "I _like _Charles. You know that," she said more mildly.

His expression relaxed and he smirked at her. "A truly mysterious circumstance," he teased.

She laughed a little, felt herself uncoiling as he relaxed. "So we're agreed?"

His smirk faded into seriousness, "You want to adopt my son…"

"You want to adopt mine." She pointed out, smiling a little.

"It isn't the same thing," he said softly.

And her own smile faded away at that. "No," she agreed just as softly, "It isn't."

He never said her name, sometimes Lily wished he would; wished he'd make her solid instead of this vague presence that haunted his eyes at unpredictable times. There was a photo of her, on display in their home now; the decorator had found it among the things the Basses had moved into the apartment. Lily had held the portrait in her hands and stared down at the young woman smiling up at her. Charles's mother had been beautiful— and Charles took after her in a startling way.

"But I would still like to… and I could talk with him," she offered, "About it."

"You could?" he asked skeptically.

"I could," she said firmly.

He took her hand in his then, "That might be… good for him."

She intertwined their fingers together again, "You should try it too," she suggested, "Talking to him," and then she smirked, "So that one day he doesn't have a public melt-down and accuse you of being the worst parent in the world in front of the InStyle reporter…"

Bart smirked, pulled her towards him, "Charles doesn't have public melt-down's; he's more likely to have affairs with the young wives of foreign diplomats."

Lily laughed, fell towards him, "Are we resuscitating the mood here, Bart Bass?" She teased, pushing him back against the headboards as she climbed into his lap.

"That's the plan," he agreed, hands roving over her, unclasping her bra.

She was leaning in close, her lips pressed against the corner of his mouth as she murmured, "Let's see what you had in mind for this setting then…"

He laughed then, low and growly, as he covered her lips with his own.

* * *

*******

* * *


End file.
